www.mikethrasherpresents.com
for complete details and info on how to
get your tickets early

NOTES

and embarrassed gentlemen, chatting them
up in rude, condescending volleys, harassing and insulting them. Someone must have
pushed THE BUTTON, because, thankfully,
when we got to NE 7th the train stopped,
lovenotes@portlandmercury.com
doors opened, and in came the police, led
LETTERS MAY BE EDITED FOR SPACE
by a massive woman who reminded me of a
character in a Fellini movie. The cops started
WE KNOW WORDS
RE: “True Tales of TriMet Terror” [Fea- checking fares while the train stood in the
ture, Aug 9] and “Great Gobbledigook” station, doors open, and within minutes all
[Music, Aug 9], a purposefully facetious the gangsters had been escorted out. Whew!
Lianagan
Sigur Rós article. The other one was totally
straight-faced.

CRYSTAL

THE

Twice in one issue the word “inchoate”
pops up? That shit flies off the page like
a kitten in a catapult. Don’t let it happen
again, showoffs.
p. royale
STUKAS SUCKAS
RE: “Female Prison Pen Pals: The Controversy!” [Letters, Aug 9], in which readers
argue in the comments section regarding
the ethicality of our summer series printing pen pal requests from female prisoners.
Stukasoverpdx got the last word.
DEAR MERCURY—Stukasoverpdx? Stuka is the nickname of the Junkers Ju 87 divebomber, the principal air weapon the Nazis
used to devastate European cities during
their “lightning war” conquest of Europe in
1940. I think stukasoverpdx might be happier in another town, say Tulsa, Muskogee,
or Texarkana.
John Cowan
A SPECIAL THANK YOU
RE: The Female Prison Pen Pals series of
pen pal requests from incarcerated females.
DEAR MERCURY—I recently wrote
about the girls incarcerated at Coffee
Creek, AKA “Cattle Creek,” ’cause some of
these chicks be rolling out of here! No joke!
Anyhow, all I want to say is thank you for
acknowledging my girls.
Jennifer Ryan

HOTEL & BALLROOM

CRYSTAL BALLROOM
SUZETTE SMITH

Taking the #17 home from work one
sweltering summer afternoon I made
room for a man in a wheelchair. He was
not abiding by any of society’s general
standards of acceptable hygiene and was
quite malodorous. This I could accept as
a part of commuting by mass transit in a
major city. What I could not abide was his
proceeding to remove his shoe and begin
to feverishly scratch every surface of
the cracked, Dead Sea of an appendage
he called a foot. Even the crew of crust
punks sitting across from him watched in
horror as he worked that graying stump
from Broadway to NW 21st.
posted by jim

FRIDAY, AUGUST 17

Pre-CouvaPalooza Party

8 PM $6 21+OVER

liftoff
Melvoy
luniC
varlet

WITH VJ KITTYROX

CRYSTAL BALLROOM
K Records presents a
Believer Magazine Event

wed aug 22
all ages
7 p.m. show
$8 adv
$10 day of

“Love SongS
for LampS”
Calvin Johnson

fri aug 17 lola’s room • $8 at door • 21 & over

Broken Water · Happy Noose

Thank you for printing my submission to
the “True Tales of TriMet Terror” free-forall. I must note, though, that two edits were
quite jarring: the substitution of “come”
for “cum” and the change of “jissom” to
“jizzum.” On the basis of these edits, I am
forced to question whether the Mercury has
a style guide. I ask because when I search
your website for variants of “jissom,” I find
three results for “gism,” seven for “jizm,” 10
for “jism,” and only one for “jizzum.” Likewise, I get 335 results for “cum,” which, as
noted above, you changed to “come.”
Swag

MORE TRUE TALES
OF TRIMET TERROR!!
RE: “True Tales of TriMet Terror” [Feature,
Aug 9], an essay contest in which we solicited accounts of real harrowing experiences WHILE WE MAY sometimes deviate from
the rather casual directive of it, our style
aboard Portland’s public transportation.
guide does state that “come” is preferred.
DEAR [SENIOR EDITOR] ERIK HEN- We don’t actually have a policy regarding
RIKSEN—I meant to send this last week jizzum, but “jissom” just sounds like the
but spaced it out. A few summers ago I got Gin Blossoms had a circle jerk. Still, you
on the midnight MAX downtown heading win two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater,
east. Just after we crossed the river the at- where you’ll please keep your cum and jismosphere changed. A whole gang got on the som to yourself.
train: big, tall motherf*%#ers all wearing
COVER ART:
the same color scheme with their don’t f*%#
with me attitudes and an action-hunting
glint in their eyes. To everyone’s horror, they
didn’t just hang in a group talking among
themselves but immediately fanned out,
finding empty seats next to sweet old ladies

To further reinforce your view that “romance is a goddamned crock of shit,” here’s the latest on the Kristen
Stewart/Robert Pattinson love implosion! First, a quick
recap: RPat and KStew were all lovey-dovey until she
started getting smoochy-woochy (and reportedly oral
sexy) with Snow White and the Huntsman director Rupert Sanders, who’s married to now-scorned actress/model
Liberty Ross. RPat kicked KStew out of his house, had her
car towed to McDonald’s (HA!),
and went into hiding behind Reese Witherspoon’s chin (okay,
fi ne… her ranch in Ojai, California). Meanwhile KStew has been
KStewing in her own pathetic
juices, incessantly sobbing in
between large spoonfuls of Ben
& Jerry’s Chunky Monkey. Now?
According to multiple sources,
RPat has been gorging himself
KSTEWING
as well—with the demon alcohol!
He’s been spotted whooping it up in an Ojai hillbilly bar
and, according to a source speaking to In Touch, has been
“drinking like crazy” to numb his sorrow as well as drunk
dialing Kristen! “Rob had been avoiding her calls, but now
they’re talking,” the snoopy pal says, adding, “Well, they’re
barely talking. There’s a lot of dead silence on the phone,
because there’s not a lot to talk about.” HAHAHA—ouch!
Sounds like somebody needs a Chunky Monkey Vodka
Float… stat! MEANWHILE… Across the pond, cheating hubby Rupert Sanders is now regretting he fell prey
to KStew’s lip-biting, dull-eyed charms, and is doing everything possible to win back “devastated” wifey Liberty
Ross. And she’s not making it easy! Besides not speaking
to him for a week, and insisting that RuSand bow out of
directing the Snow White sequel, LiRo has been spotted
trotting around sans wedding ring and dining with “an
unidentified male companion.” Does he smell like he fell
into a barrel of rum? It could be RPat! (Hey, we can dream,
can’t we?)

TUESDAY, AUGUST 7

Speaking of couples we’d die to see together, former X
Files star Gillian “Scully” Anderson has split from longtime boytoy Mark Griffiths, and according to Celebrity
Dirty Laundry, has fallen into the arms of former X Files
co-star David “Mulder” Duchovny! Allow yourself a moment to squeal about that. SQUEAL! David, of course, is a
well-known alleged sex addict—which sounds great, unless you were Téa Leoni and unhappily married to him for
12 years. However, due to the amazing sexual chemistry
Gillian and David shared during their nine-year run on
The X Files, we can’t help but think these two are going
to make a fantastic couple, and can’t wait for them to…
THIS JUST IN. A killjoy publicist for DaDuch just issued
a proclamation DENYING reports that Scully and Mulder are romantically involved. BOOOOO!!! (So much for
our idea to turn our high school X Files fan fiction into an
unauthorized biography.)

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8

Question: Former beloved rapper Kanye West released a
new song today called “Perfect Bitch”—and guess who it’s
about? Answer: “I wrote the song ‘Perfect Bitch’ about Kim
[Kardashian],” Kanye twattered. (How can something be
so appropriate, yet inappropriate at the same time?) Terrible, horrific monster Kim had this to say in response, according to TMZ: “I’m honored. I love it. I know he doesn’t
mean it in a negative way when he says the word ‘bitch’.”
Just to put this in perspective, we’ve called Kim a monster,
a trollop, a fanged pig, an ogre, a malodorous gargoyle,
and a “despicable shit stain on the genital wart of humanity.” And yet? We would never call her a “bitch.” Thanks for
enabling Kanye and demeaning the rest of us, Kim—you

THIS WEEK ON

PORTLANDMERCURY.COM

THE WEEK
IN REVIEW
by Ann Romano

stinking, walking pustule on the undercarriage of a syphilitic mule. MEANWHILE… And you can skip over this
part and move on to Thursday if you have a delicate constitution, but here’s what the cannibalized victim of the Miami Zombie who was caught chewing Ronald Poppo’s face
off two months ago had to say about the encounter. (After
several surgeries, the now blind Poppo is still in Jackson
Memorial Hospital.) “He attacked me,” Poppo calmly told
reporters. “He just ripped me to ribbons. He chewed up my
face. He plucked out my eyes. Basically that’s all there is
to say about it.” We now return you to shivering and saying
“Brrrrrrr!”

THURSDAY, AUGUST 9

In “Hillbilly News,” it was reported today that country
singer Randy Travis crashed his car, and was found stinking drunk while “nude and lying
in the roadway” before eventually being arrested. According
to the police report, Travis also
threatened to shoot and kill the
troopers who made the arrest.
On the upside, he is dating neither Kristen Stewart nor Kim
Kardashian. MEANWHILE…
Snaggletoothed teen hillbilly Miley Cyrus got her hair cut to look
just like the one Rachel (JenniYOU MIGHT BE A
fer Aniston) wore in the mid-’90s
REDNECK IF
during Friends. Says original Friends co-star Marcel the
Monkey, after seeing the new hairstyle, “She looks like a
goddamned ape.”

FRIDAY, AUGUST 10

Suri Cruise is “adjusting well” to the Divorce of the Century™, Radar Online reports, citing a source that says Katie
Holmes and Tom Cruise haven’t seen each other since the
split, so “Suri has been protected
from any uncomfortable situations. And both have agreed not
to say anything derogatory about
the other.” “I’ll take it from here,
thanks!” interrupted Emperor
Klaktu of Rigel VII. “While
Tom’s too noble to say anything,
I’d like to note that Katie Holmes
is a stinking, walking pustule on
the undercarriage of a syphilitic
“ADJUSTED”
Abraxian meteor toad! Snap! Oh,
and while I have your readers’ attention, Ann, I’d like to remind them that the criminally
underrated drama Battlefield Earth, inspired by the prophetic writings of L. Ron Hubbard, is currently available
on Netfl ix Instant! Who wants to come over? I have popcorn!” After four solar chrono-cycles of absolute silence,
Klaktu mumbled, “Fine. Come over if you change your
mind, I guess. Unless you are Katie Holmes, in which case
you are never invited ever.”

SATURDAY, AUGUST 11

At long last, XXL asked 50 Cent what he thought of
Kanye West’s new song “Perfect Bitch.” “I mean… if
that man feel like she’s perfect, then she’s perfect,” 50
said diplomatically. Somewhat less diplomatically, he
added, “You know what it is? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” Well said, 50 Cent. Well said.
MEANWHILE… Mitt Romney has tapped Wisconsin
Congressman Paul Ryan as his running mate. Wonkette
writes that this morning “Romney and Ryan set foot on
the USS Wisconsin, a formal Naval battleship and government-run museum, to point out that the government
has done nothing useful and should be destroyed.” (The
candidates walked out to the theme from Air Force One,
the movie in which President Harrison Ford punched
terrorists in their faces. Subtle, guys.) Ryan’s famous for

Ask
Becca & Trish,
Two Teenagers Texting in a Movie Theater
Dear Becca & Trish: I am 67 years old, unemployed, and
my wife of 42 years was recently diagnosed with cancer.
We are terribly alone, and—

two things: Giving out Atlas Shrugged to his staff for
Christmas (shudder), and drafting what the New Yorker called a “profoundly radical document”—a hard-line
budget that slashed things like financial aid for lowincome students. So. This should be fun.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 12

The London Olympics ended today. In the closing ceremony, Russell Brand sang a song from Willy Wonka
and the Chocolate Factory
from atop a hippie van, and
Fatboy Slim brought back 1998
by playing “The Rockafeller
Skank” beneath a giant inflatable octopus, and then there
were Spice Girls. MOV ING
ON. Realizing she didn’t want
to be associated with Jennifer
“Holly wood’s Old Maid” Aniston, Miley Cyrus has ditched
her “Rachel” ’do in lieu of what
WONKA
Yahoo! OMG calls “a spiky pixie
cut.” To us it looks like Billy Ray Cyrus drunkenly went
after his daughter with a Flowbee, but hey—still better
than a Rachel! MEANWHILE… What?! “Jennifer Aniston is heading back to the altar after accepting a marriage proposal from Justin Theroux,” CNN reports. Uh,
good for you, Jen! (Psst! Justin! We told you to run! It
isn’t too late!) BACK TO MILEY! Spiky Pixie Miley will
“appear in at least several episodes” of Two and a Half
Men, says E! Online. She’ll play a “sexy” new character
who… who… wow. Was the highlight of today really Russell Brand singing Willy Wonka? Really?!

ADvANCe tiCketS thROugh ALL tiCketSWeSt LOCAtiONS, SAFeWAy, MuSiC MiLLeNNiuM. tO ChARge By phONe pLeASe CALL 503.224.8499

NEWS

Cute Animal Death Watch!

NEWS

Do We Have the Stomach to Euthanize Invasive Squirrels, Possums, and Turtles? by Nathan Gilles

gion’s expanding urbanization.
And because these invaders are small,
cute, and endemic in urban Oregon—and
because many Oregonians don’t know
they’re invasive—they frequently show
up at rehab centers, carried in the arms of
would-be do-gooders. That’s when Ackermann has to tell them why she won’t take
them in. “Because I don’t have a stomach
for mass euthanasia.”

SAVE

to go against our mission.”
Invasive species are any nonnative animals or plants that, once introduced to an
environment, cause economic or ecological
harm. And they’re everywhere.
To stop their spread, the ODFW has
tried outright eradication—like with the feral pigs—or, better still, keeping invasives
out of the state to begin with. But for every
invasive pig or hydropower-wrecking mus-

BALD EAGLE

RACCOON

WESTERN SQUIRREL

OPOSSUM

EASTERN SQUIRREL

KILL

VETERINARIAN AND WILDLIFE rehabilitator Janette Ackermann opens the
door of her aging freezer and pulls out a
snack. It’s a plastic container filled with
frozen mice.
“We feed them to the birds,” she says,
“and sometimes the raccoons.”
Just 30 miles from downtown Portland,
Ackermann’s American Wildlife Foundation center in Molalla is nestled between
a polymer factory, a glass factory, and
lots of farmland. The nonprofit’s 13.5-acre
lot is mostly wide open, with animal pens
scattered here and there. This is the spot
where, for the past 14 years, the vet and
her staff have treated hundreds of animals
before releasing them into the wild. Right
now, the facility’s pens house needy wildlife
ranging from raccoons to birds of prey. But
what you won’t find on Ackermann’s lot
are invasive species—or nonnative animals
deemed harmful by the state—of any kind.
By law, if a tearful child or big-hearted
adult shows up with an injured invasive, be
it a cute squirrel or a nasty possum, Ackermann must either turn the thing away or
put it to death.
“I have the rules,” says Ackermann,
“whether I believe in them or don’t.”
For years, Ackermann and other wildlife rehabbers were exempt from state laws
regulating—and targeting—invasive species. But not anymore. Last year, Oregon
not only made it illegal for rehabbers to help
invasives, but it also began forcing them to
euthanize any animals that are taken in. The
change is an extension of past state policy,
which allowed for the wholesale slaughter
of certain invasive species, like feral pigs.
But for rehabbers, who put a premium on
animal welfare, sharing this burden with the
Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife
(ODFW) has been a bitter shift.
“We’re animal welfare people; we’re not
animal control people,” says Mary Bliss,
who operates Turtle Ridge Wildlife Center
in Salem. “It shouldn’t be up to us to have

STARLING

ARTWORK BY MORGAINE FAYE

sel, there are hundreds of other species
who aren’t on the state’s kill list, at least not
until they wind up at a rehab facility. Many
are so well established and familiar that
some rehabbers argue that they should get
off the euthanasia hook altogether.
The first species rehabbers hope to save
is the Virginia opossum, introduced to the
Northwest roughly 100 years ago as a food
source. Oregon has no extermination policy
for the notorious marsupial known for dining
on the eggs of native birds. Rehabbers also
want to spare the now-ubiquitous eastern fox
squirrel and the eastern gray squirrel, species
that have displaced the state’s native Douglas
and western gray squirrels thanks to the re-

Under the new rules, wildlife rehabbers
basically have two choices: ignoring a sick
or injured animal or putting it to death.
Choosing a different option could cost a rehabber’s license.
ODFW biologist Keith Kohl says the policy isn’t about punishing rehabbers or making
them do the agency’s work. It’s about setting
an invasive species policy for the whole state.
For years, private animal control companies
have been required to euthanize any invasives
they caught. But until June 2011, wildlife rehabbers were exempt from the same policy.
“There were some that didn’t like it,”
says Kohl. “But part of their option is they
don’t have to take these animals in.”

Singing in a Coffee Shop? That’ll Be $300.
Music Licensing Company Admits Mistake After Pestering Nonprofit by Sarah Mirk

DINGO THE CLOWN and Olive Rootbeer showed up at Café au Play on SE Division last Thursday, August 9, to lead the
children’s story time they host every week.
But then the staff of the volunteer-run coffee shop informed them that the pair’s days of
singing classics like “Mary Had a Little Lamb”
were over. After receiving numerous emails,
phone calls, and letters over the past month
from music-licensing organization Broadcast
Music, Inc. (BMI), Café au Play was worried it
would have to fork over hundreds of dollars in
royalties if anyone performed any songs they
hadn’t written themselves.
“They were sending me letters, emailing
me, saying I’d have to buy a license to have
performers,” says Kristin Heying of the nonprofit Café au Play. “I was like, this is kids’

music! We have all-local kids musicians.”
Rather than risk the wrath of BMI, the café
decided to ask performers to play only original music—no nursery rhymes, even.
Café au Play is just one example of small
businesses being solicited heavily to spend
hundreds of dollars on a music license or
face potentially hefty fines. After being
asked about its solicitation of Café au Play,
BMI said that the café had been contacted
over and over by mistake.
BMI is the country’s largest music-licensing organization. The nonprofit corporation
patrols commercial use of music on behalf of
songwriters, collecting royalties for artists
who sign up with BMI and then sharing the
proceeds. Much of BMI’s work involves encouraging businesses—like coffee shops and

NEWS

bars—to buy annual music-use licenses that
cost a minimum of $335 a year.
Many of the rules around music licensing are surprising. For example, if a business is playing the radio on six or more
loudspeakers, or plays Top 40 hits as its
hold music, that requires a public performance license.
In the case of Café au Play, the coffee
shop may have come under BMI’s scrutiny
because it lists live music performances
like “Story Time with Olive Rootbeer and
Dingo” on its website.
Heying says she felt the café was being intimidated into paying for a service it
doesn’t need. Neighbors built the nonprofit
coffee shop and community center over
several years on what used to be a drug-in-

Comment on these stories at portlandmercury.com

And he’s right: Rehabbers and the
public can always have ODFW do the killing for them.
“The whole thing about euthanasia
becomes an emotional one and an ethical
one,” says ODFW biologist Susan Barnes.
“It’s not something I take lightly or that
the agency takes likely.”
Barnes has the unenviable job of euthanizing the animals that rehabbers turn away.
The process is similar to what happens when,
say, your dog or cat is put down with anesthesia. But for animals with metabolisms too
slow to succumb to the chemicals the state
uses, like turtles—it gets more involved.
When she spoke to the Mercury,
Barnes had just received an invasive redeared slider turtle, which she was going
to euthanize. The procedure is gruesome
enough that she asked us not to print it.
But Kohl explained the national turtle-killing guidelines that ODFW follows: Biologists have to cut off the animal's head, and
then scramble its still-active brains.
Bob Sallinger, conservation director
of the Audubon Society of Portland, also
thinks the rehabbers are missing the bigger ecological picture. Invasives cause ecological harm, says Sallinger, and regardless of whether or not the state is actively
eradicating them, they shouldn’t be given
the same status as natives.
But Sallinger is also realistic that euthanasia does very little to stop the spread of
foreign species. “I think the best argument
[rehabbers] have,” says Sallinger, “is what
difference does one more make—when
there is a hell of a lot of them out there?”
For this reason, a number of rehabbers
who spoke with Mercury tried to downplay
the harm wrought by the Virginia opossum
and the eastern gray and fox squirrels.
And the rehabbers might have a point.
There aren’t a lot of studies quantifying exactly how these animals are affecting their
native counterparts—and whether, as many
rehabbers claim, the damage is already done.
And maybe, says Ackermann of the refuge center in Molalla, the dispute may go
even deeper than science.
“They [invasives] do cause problems,”
says Ackermann. “Anyone who thinks they
don’t cause problems is sticking their head in
the sand.” But then she continues, “Having
said that, I can’t euthanize them either.”
fected site, training high schoolers to work
as baristas. Spending $300 on a license
would eat into the group’s budget.
“Definitely they’re trying to intimidate
you, it’s like the music mafia,” says Heying.
“If they’re advertising live music on
their website, it could be inferred that
they’re playing more than occasional nursery rhymes,” says BMI spokesman Ari
Surdoval, who confirmed that the café had
received letters and phone calls.
However, after looking into the file, Surdoval quickly called the Mercury back to
say that soliciting Café au Play had been
a mistake.
“They certainly appear to be more of a
nonprofit. Right now, they’re going to be
pulled out of the system,” said Surdoval.
Heying was astounded when she heard
the news that Café au Play would no longer
be BMI’s target for royalties.
“If that really happens, I would be
floored,” she said.
August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 7

“I tore through this book
with heedless pleasure.”
“When her agoraphobic mom disappears,
fifteen-year-old Bee takes matters into her own
hands. An uproarious comedy of manners from a
former writer for Arrested Development.”

he shelves of the police evidence
and property warehouse stretch
high above my head, forming
long, tall alleyways. It feels like
an IKEA warehouse, but instead of unassembled Månstads,
the mundane items that wait
here all have a dark past.
Bike parts and boots and drugs and daggers—the objects
are fragment sentences of long, tragic stories. A can of
used pepper spray, a broken sword, an entire ATM. What
are they artifacts from, exactly?
The police evidence and property warehouse is purgatory for objects as they arrive from crime scenes, where they
are meticulously catalogued, and then wait to be called
upon to appear before detectives or judges and juries.
The team that tags the daily deluge of stolen goods and
evidence often doesn’t know where they came from. But
the objects’ futures are much more clear. They will live
here for weeks or years (in the case of homicide evidence,
decades) and if no one shows up to claim them, the clearly
valuable and easily sellable items will be auctioned online.
Everything else in the place will be destroyed. Doors still
stinging with mace from crime scenes will be tossed in the
dumpster, cocaine will be burned.
I toured the warehouse this month and, with the help
of the crew that spends their days filing away evidence,
picked out some of the strangest objects and dug up
their stories.

his disco ball peeked out from a box stored
on the tallest shelf in the warehouse, catching
the glare of fluorescent lights.
It used to hang in an illegal club run out of Old
Town’s Star Theater. In August 2009, undercover
cops discovered the theater was selling drinks until dawn with no liquor permit, slinging pre-poured
cups of Red Bull mixed with vodka to people who
paid $10 a cup and knew to show up at the the-

ater after other bars let out. According to a former
employee who talked with police, the place went
through five gallons of vodka a night and underage
strippers danced on the VIP stage. “The employee
said that they have personally seen cocaine being
snorted off a nude dancer,” reads the report from
the police investigation. “Narcotics use and dealings occur on a nightly basis… the employee said,
‘It is as if they think they are invisible.’”
The disco ball, clearly, was essential to the
mood. When the place was busted, the mirrored
ball was seized from an unpermitted stage lighting
rig. It will likely be destroyed.

#1

Continued on pg. 10

August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 9

Continued from pg. 9

#2 HILLBILLY JETPACK
I

n December 2010, a police officer stopped 38-yearold Steven Terrill for a traffic infraction. When the officer realized Terrill’s car was stolen, the routine stop led
to a massive bust of a robbery ring based out of a home
in East Portland that teeters 12 feet above ground,
jacked up on stilts. Police say Terrill was the leader of
the robbery ring, which allegedly stole over $5 million in
random items over the years, grabbing whatever they
could from stores and storage units and hawking them

on eBay. This strange jetpack—actually an Ultralite motor used for motorized paragliding—was found in the
garage of Terrill’s grandma out in Clackamas County,
along with dozens of items ranging from a chainsaw to
a Reed College plaque.
Police still aren’t sure who owns this thing. No
one’s claimed it in the year and a half since it came in—
but since similar paragliding motors fetch over $6,000
online, the state will likely sell it off.

#3 SKATEBOARDS
A

wall of seized skateboards
rises from the concrete floor
of the evidence room all the way
up to the airy warehouse ceiling, proof that sometimes skateboarding is a crime. Dozens of
shortboards and longboards rest
on jerry-rigged clothes hangers,
awaiting their trials.
They don’t just come from cops
clamping down on rogue kids kickflipping. One of the boards in this
picture—the most beat-up—was
an accessory to robbery. In May
2008, a man strolled in to the Red
Square Café on SE Belmont and

ordered a drink. When the barista
turned around, the man’s hand
was in his waistband, and he said,
“I’m gonna shoot you… empty the
till.” The barista gave him a wad of
cash from the register and the man
fled, jumping on this skateboard
and taking off down SE 46th. He
eventually ditched the board and
hopped in a cab, but police caught
up to him in a backyard just a few
blocks away.
Since they don’t have much resale value, if no one claims these
skateboards, they will eventually
be destroyed.

#3

#2

#4

#4 LOTS AND LOTS
OF MARIJUANA
“I

t’s like a toilet that keeps on flushing,” says Dave
Benson of the evidence division, of the mountain of
marijuana that rolls in and out of the warehouse every week.
There is no season, there is no high-point. There is just lots
of marijuana all the time. It hangs like dead bodies in burlap
sacks from meathooks in a special room that smells nauseatingly weedy and is accessible only with two keycards
pressed to two separate pads at the same time. Pot not
stored in sacks is carefully filed in giant Ziploc bags or put in
cardboard containers marked “Box o’ weed.”
Every single ounce that comes into the room is destroyed.
Once its day in court is done, it will be incinerated—not in
the typical way, but in a giant industrial incinerator in Salem
along with medical waste.
In the past, some of the pot escaped. Until this winter,
the evidence room gave back seized medical marijuana to
legal cardholders who requested its return. But recently,
State Attorney General John Kroger told police that returning Oregon-legal pot was likely a violation of federal crime.
Now, the pot is doomed.

#5 CAN OF TOMATOES
T

his can of tomatoes is still a mystery. The case number associated
with the can is for a dine-and-dash at a restaurant. But the case “did
not have anything to do with a can of tomato sauce,” according to police.

#5

Continued on pg. 13

10 Portland Mercury August 16, 2012

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August 16, 2012 Portland7/16/12
Mercury
11
3:04 PM

12 Portland Mercury August 16, 2012

Continued from pg. 10

#6 CART FULL OF FRUIT FLIES AND BEER

T

he officer found Francisco lying
in the doorway of the 7-Eleven on
SW 1st, clutching a wad of bloody paper napkins to his stomach. The officer
lifted the napkins and saw a single deep
wound. Francisco didn’t speak English.
These are his things.
Francisco had been hanging out in
the parking lot of the 7-Eleven, drinking
cheap beer with two other guys, Chewie
and Jorge. They were good friends, just
talking, when Chewie pulled out a fourinch folding knife and stabbed Francisco

for no reason. At least that was the story
Jorge told police, when they interviewed
him later—though it was difficult trying
to make sense of a voice officers noted
was slurred with alcohol, with a severe
speech impediment. Chewie wandered
away, pushing a bicycle he’d covered in
Mardi Gras beads. The officers arrived
shortly thereafter and took Francisco
to OHSU. He survived. Fruit flies began breeding in the beer cans left in his
cart, so the evidence room team tightly
Saran-wrapped the entire rig.

#7 Sword canes

T

he surprising thing about the box of
things-people-hit-other-people-with is not its
diversity (baseball bats, pool cues, golf clubs)
but how many of the items are sword canes. I
didn’t realize sword canes were still in production, much less circulation. There appear to be a
high number of assaulters who fancy themselves

characters in an Elizabethan drama, strolling the
halls of their suburban home grasping wooden
canes topped with metal heads of eagles or
dogs or lions and then, in a moment of passion,
whipping the sheath away to reveal that the
tool of a cripple is actually—aha!—the weapon
of a criminal. While the canes seem like fantasy
objects, the baseball bats (some broken) paint
a much less romantic image of assault as both
mundane and brutal.

OUR ARTS AND ENTERTAINMENT PICKS FOR THE WEEK OF AUGUST 16-22
THURSDAY, AUGUST 16
TERRIBLE TEDS—The best Portland writers/fake experts
in the areas of “humor, science, history, child slavery, personal empowerment, and death” are coming together to
present pugnacious PowerPoints that spoof TED Talks
(long overdue). Among others, this installment of CHAD
Chats features cartoonist Mark Russell answering the ageold question “What Is the Bible?” and author Mykle
Hansen on “Death: Is It for You?” SM
Jack London Bar at the Rialto, 529 SW 4th, 8:30 pm,
$7-10

SMODCAST—While he’s the dude
responsible for Clerks, Mallrats, and
Chasing Amy, Kevin Smith’s true talent is in the spoken word—seeing him
speak live is a hilarious, charmingly
vulgar experience. Tonight, he brings
along pal Scott Mosier for a live recording of their ridiculously popular
podcast, SModcast. EH
Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie,
9 pm, $32.50-50

SATURDAY, AUGUST 18
POSEHN—Laconic, clever, and nerdy to the
core, Brian Posehn’s arrival into town will no
doubt be heralded by thundering metal and a
blast of pot smoke, like opening the door to a
very sketchy van. Don’t miss the chance to see
one of the original Comedians of Comedy. AH
Helium Comedy Club, 1510 SE 10th,
Thurs 8 pm, Fri-Sat 7:30 & 10:30 pm,
$15-20

LAST WEEK’S Pink Carpet Project fashion
show benefit for Planned Parenthood was a
nice capsule of the diversity of apparel design happening in the Pacific Northwest, from
hot little bikinis to fashion-forward menswear.
I had a pretty nice view of it from my vantage
as co-emcee, and was thrilled to see many of
the designs on a runway for the first time. I particularly had my eye on Brady Lange, who was
showing his designs for the very first time. I first
met Lange as an assistant to Adam Arnold, and
then later when he began working with Grayling
and Blackbird—pretty great influences for a budding designer—but had never known him to design himself. And until now, he really hasn’t—the
Pink Carpet was his first runway show since he
graduated from the Art Institute of Portland with
an apparel design degree.
The collection he debuted at the event marks
his official foray onto the scene, and the all-pink,
denim-and-floral result marked a favorite episode of the evening. Loud and fun (culminating
in an outrageous finale full-length pink cape for
him), the work also showed off serious tailoring
chops. Denim jackets, vests, and pants demonstrated an excellent eye for fit and pristine construction, all the more striking from a designer
who has basically been hiding in plain sight.
Lange spoke to the Mercury about what his future in Portland design holds.

KISSIN’ CRÜE—KISS and Mötley
Crüe on the same bill? Oh, yes. (Music
Editor Ned Lannamann refused to write
this, as he “fucking hates both of them.”
I, on other hand, volunteered—because
if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the
Crüe will always rüle. Read my tattoo if
you don’t believe me.) EH
Sleep Country Amphitheater, 17200
NE Delfel Road, Ridgefield, WA,
7 pm, $30-150, all ages

MONDAY, AUGUST 20
GO KIDS!—The great Hollywood Theatre sponsors
a summer documentary film camp for smartypants
teens, teaching kids how to write, shoot, and edit
movies about people and issues they care about.
Awww. The final product of this summer’s Project
Youth Docs screens tonight—it’s your chance to
find out what teens are thinking these days. SM
Hollywood Theatre, 4122 NE Sandy,
7:30 pm, $5

THEY SELL SANCTUARY—Since 1983, the
Cult have blurred the lines between hard rock
and gothy post-punk, producing more than a
few tremendous records along the way. Their
heavy jangle sounds even better than you remember, so don’t miss the longtime Yorkshire
rockers when they roll through. NL
w/Murder of Crows; Roseland, 8 NW 6th,
8 pm, $30, 21 & over

TUESDAY, AUGUST 21
BASTARD!—Hey kung fu fans! The Hollywood
Theatre is proud to present the only known
35mm print of the chop-socky classic The Bastard Swordsman, in which a masked stranger
trains a little bastard in the wicked awesome
“Silkworm Style” of swordplay, culminating in a
sword-fightin’, head amputatin’ free-for-all! WSH
Hollywood Theatre, 4122 NE Sandy,
7:30 pm, $7

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 22
TRES HOMBRES—Fans of long whiskers and classic rock, rejoice! ZZ Top
is bad, ZZ Top is nationwide, ZZ Top is
playing tonight. They’ll wail on classics
like “Legs” and “Cheap Sunglasses,” and
everyone shall rock the fuck out. ZZ Fun
Fact™: The drummer—he’s the one without a big, bushy beard—is named Frank
Beard. NL
Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale, 6:30 pm, $49-79, all ages

BRADY LANGE
GALEN AMUSSEN

MERCURY: How has your design background developed since graduating from
school?
BRADY LANGE: I have a degree in apparel
design but felt like my education was lacking,
which is one of the reasons I got into contact
with Adam [Arnold]. It’s always been my goal to
start something myself, but I’m kind of a perfectionist and I hate when people put something
out that I’m like, “Why? You aren’t ready.”
So can we expect to start seeing seasonal
collections?
Yes. I’m doing a collection for fall 2012. It will be
very small. I am going to try to work something
out for a show, but I think it will be more of a
party. I don’t know if I will have enough garments
for a full show.
How did you get involved in the Pink Carpet
as, basically, an unknown?
Adam actually told me about it, and I kind of
bullied my way in. It was a lot of trust on the
part of the organizers. I don’t have a website
or anything.

What was the process like for the collection?
It took less than a month. It was actually kind of
TOP TAPES—K Records honcho Calvin a rough July. I went to a family reunion, and had a
Johnson made a cassette compilation for pretty hard breakup. I did a lot of stuff in that last
the latest issue of the Believer magazine, week. I didn’t sleep for 52 hours.

and to celebrate he’s touring with some
handpicked bands. Tonight he stops
through town with Broken Water, the
Memories, the Shivas, White Rainbow,
and more—plus a bevy of local cassette
labels will have their tables set up. NL
Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside,
7 pm, $8-10, all ages

Will you have the pieces produced? Are
you selling them?
I’m not sure. I need to shoot them fi rst. A lot of
the fabric I don’t know if I can fi nd again. But
I would say it’s for sale. If anybody was interested I’d be more than happy to work something out.

August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 15

AN INTIMATE EVENING WITH NASHVILLE-BASED SINGER/SONGWRITER

GRIFFIN

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PORTLAND MERCURY, PBR AND STOLI PRESENT

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Present that night’s
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Sun - Thur in the
dining room

Incredible Yacht Control Falls into Place by Ned Lannamann
IT TOOK A WHILE, but Incredible Yacht Vogel was making with his previous band,
Crosstide, a band that existed on the cusp
Control is a band again.
Bret Vogel, who writes and records of a breakthrough that never quite seemed
the songs in his basement, says it’s all be- to arrive. “Crosstide had gotten to this
cause of the band’s bassist, Adam Swee- point where everything that we were doing
was so thought out,” Vogel says.
ney. Sweeney was the one who
catalyzed the current incarna- Incredible Yacht “Everything was going so slow.
Control
So many of the milestones—you
tion after hearing Amateur
Wed Aug 22
know, ‘You’ll get a record deal
Hypnotist, the fourth IncredHolocene
if you do x, y, z,’—we had done
ible Yacht Control album, which
1001 SE Morrison
them all and it just wasn’t hapthe prolific Vogel recorded entirely on his own. Sweeney urged Vogel to pening. It wasn’t the most creative place to
put a band together and play some shows, be, and we all felt it.”
Meanwhile, Incredible Yacht Control
taking on the responsibilities of arranging rehearsals while providing both a PA slowly fell into place. “I was just recordand a place to practice. “He just kind of ing songs on my own, because that was
put everything together for me and I just always my favorite part, just writing and
recording, and I had so many ideas. Just
showed up,” says Vogel.
Amateur Hypnotist was released on- that story you’ve probably heard a million
line earlier this year, and it’s available for times. I didn’t have any plans to release
free once you make a donation to p:ear, them; it was actually Ruban and Kody
but the band is now giving it the proper [Nielson] from the Mint Chicks, they got
release show it deserves. It’s a dense, di- really into the demos when I played them
verse bedroom record of garage soul-pop, for them. They encouraged me to release
rich with echo and weird, trippy flairs— it as a record as it was, which I wouldn’t
including vocal tracks that Vogel recorded have even considered.”
After the fi rst IYC shows (which inon a VCR to get the thick crunch that he
couldn’t elicit from a distortion plug-in. cluded the Nielsons as part of the band),
Parts of it sounds imported from the ba- Vogel took an extended break from perroque ’60s and others are positively fu- forming. Now with Sweeney and a new
turistic, displaying squelchy sci-fi sounds lineup—which currently includes Cameron Herrington on drums, Vogel’s old
alongside classic Mellotron patches.
Incredible Yacht Control is both a con- Crosstide bandmate Rian Lewis on guitinuation of and a departure from the music tar, and keyboardist Akila Fields (also of

Piecemeal Punk

Still Caves and the Art of Fucking Off by Ryan J. Prado

MUSIC

“I DON’T THINK we really write songs,” ally loud, hit the fuzz pedals, and just startsays Still Caves bassist Kellam Connelly. ed hitting a chord over and over again,”
explains Whitmer. “Then Travis would
“We just play.”
hit a beat and something would
Indeed, there’s a freewheelStill Caves
come automatically right out of
ing kind of abandon on Still
Thurs Aug 16
the beat. All of a sudden we were
Caves’ debut cassette EP Static
The Know
playing something.”
Lips that backs up this assess2026 NE Alberta
That the band’s music is inment. Adding to its sophomoric
nature is a string of improbabilities that telligible at all is cause for celebration,
might have hamstrung most fledgling considering their ramshackle creative probands. Still Caves’ two guitar players— cess. But their arsenal of tunes goes well
Brian Whitmer and Jamey Williams—had beyond being merely passable. Songs like
never played in a band before. Drummer “Dutch” and “No Company” employ the
Travis Visscher emerged as the band’s selfsame utilitarian accoutrements as any
singer after no one would take up the role neo-garage crew, but instead inject the
during the first few practices—he’d never fuzzy punk abandon of early Mudhoney or
done it before. Whitmer had to be taught Spacemen 3, with everything levitating in
how to use effects pedals, adjusting to us- a kind of squealing lo-fi cacophony. An ening amplifiers and electric guitar when the veloping tsunami of reverb on “Deep in the
band formed in the beginning of 2011. Wil- Grip” surrounds an evil-sounding “ba-baliams had previously spent most of his cre- ba” chorus, which suffocates underneath a
ative energy composing ambient noise mu- writhing din of junk-sick guitars too fucked
sic to upload to the internet, and he hates up to play more than a couple of chords.
With these elements of arty attitude in
being in front of people.
It doesn’t exactly scream, “rock band tow, the band makes no bones about their
compatibility.” “It was a little rag doll for a desire to kick start a more energetic live
while,” jokes Williams—but the band soon music experience in Portland.
“There’s a little sneering and a little attihit its stride.
“The first time the three of us played tude,” says Visscher of the aggressiveness on
[before Connelly joined], we turned up re- the EP. “It’s not a response to safe music;

Sleepy Villains and Shy Girls)—the band
is gathering steam, bringing Vogel’s exceptional songs to audiences.
“What I realized with Incredible Yacht
Control is that I’m not making music for
any reason,” says Vogel, reflecting on the
lessons learned from Crosstide. “At this

point I’m just doing it because that’s who
I am and I don’t really care about anything
else. With technology being what it is—the
downside being there’s eight million records that come out every day that nobody
ever hears—but if really all you’re into is
making that music, and now you can do it
for cheap, then that’s pretty awesome. So
the takeaway for me is I love making music
and I’ve been able to record a lot of it on my
own, and that’s the most important thing. If
I make decisions to support that, then I’m
going to be happy.”

SARAI ENGEL

INCREDIBLE YACHT CONTROL So where’s this “yacht” you guys won’t shut up about?

it’s just part of all the elements that come
together at this point for us. We’re trying
to build up some sort of group of bands that
don’t have to sound the same, but who are
having fun, who have a lot of energy.”
Moreover, they just want people to
dance. “A lot of the bands that people promote in the papers are pretty boring,” says
Visscher. “They’re talented and creative
and they’re nice people, but it’s so polite. I
don’t wanna go watch a show with my mom
and dad.”

With just a little over a year under their
belts, Still Caves’ goals as a band remain
grounded, taking each step as it comes
without worrying about big touring (they
all have time-consuming day jobs) or labels
(though they’re in talks for a possible vinyl LP release on San Francisco’s Loglady
Records). In the meantime, they plan on
forging ahead in the same manner in which
they accidentally compose songs.
“It started with fucking off,” says Williams. “And it’s still fucking off.”

STILL CAVES Look no further for squealing lo-fi cacophony!

Comment on these stories at portlandmercury.com

August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 17

18 Portland Mercury August 16, 2012

(Pacific North) Western

Denver Keeps Country Music Pure by Mark Lore

MUSIC

DENVER ARE from Portland. Right recently got remixed for vinyl by Mike
now three band members are seated in Coykendall, who gave the 11 songs some
much-needed soul. Songs like
front of a heaping plate of naDenver
“Toledo” and “Dancin’ with the
chos and a handful of empties
Sat Aug 18
Moon” sound alive—taking on
at a Southeast bar talking about
Doug Fir
their love for country music. The 830 E Burnside the feel of a recent rehearsal in
the band’s modest practice space,
fact that they’re barely aware
anything happened in music after 1983 is while also keeping the feel of the early-’70s
outlaw country of Waylon Jennings, Willie
kind of refreshing.
“All I listen to is country,” says guitar- Nelson—and one of Elias’ favorites—
ist/vocalist Mike Elias. “It’s all I want to Johnny Paycheck.
Elias, Bevitori, and MacNeil all agree
play; it’s all I can play.”
Drummer Sean MacNeil and guitarist/ they’re ready to move beyond this batch
vocalist Tom Bevitori share Elias’ view: of songs. Elias says they have an album’s
When they talk about playing country mu- worth of new material ready to go after
sic, it’s exactly what they mean. Denver they head out on some West Coast dates
isn’t trying to put a modern spin on a later this year. Denver’s live performances
genre that spans back almost a century. have gained a reputation for being a little
Their music is about as pure a form as drunken and unhinged.
“Why go see a band if you’re not goyou’ll likely fi nd in Portland, a city that’s
cozying up to the genre with locals like the ing to have fun?” asks MacNeil, admitting
Portland Country Underground and Flash that the members have learned to harness
Flood and the Dikes delivering equally their rambunctious ways in recent months.
“But there’s got to be some balance.”
righteous twang.
Denver got their start
three years ago playing occasional shows with Blitzen
Trapper, a band with whom
they share Trapper frontman Eric Earley. They recorded their self-titled debut
full-length in a Southeast
home, which by all accounts
was a haze of music, whiskey,
and beer. “I didn’t do much,”
Bevitori jokes. “I just sat
around and got drunk.”
The album’s been kicking around for a while, and DENVER “Yeeee-haw! It’s the tree-choppin’ song!”

Rambling Gambling Men

I Went to Helvetia with Helvetia by Ned Lannamann

MUSIC

I IMMEDIATELY LOVE the wonderful- ing, and songs started piling up.”
“It was a little bit different from Dustly low-key Nothing in Rambling, so when
I hear Jason Albertini has just moved to er, but it had the same sensibilities,” AlPortland, I set up an interview. And be- bertini says. Nothing in Rambling is the
seventh Helvetia album, and it
cause his band’s name is Helvetia,
Helvetia
sails on a hazy West Coast vibe,
I decide it could be cool to meet
Fri Aug 17
with breezy psychedelics and simat the Helvetia Tavern, a homey
East End
joint located in an unincorporated 203 SE Grand ple, deliberate melodies bolstered
by pulsing organ. “It just needed
part of Hillsboro that’s also called
Helvetia—an alternate name for Switzer- to get simpler to get better,” Albertini
land, where Albertini spent much of his says of the latest record. “We just have to
childhood. I fail to realize how long it takes move with ourselves.”
“There are some things on this that reto get out there, but luckily it’s a beautiful
sunny day, and the tavern is surrounded mind me of the early ’90s hardcore stuff,”
by gorgeous, rolling farmland. Just as Amber says. “Where it’s kind of jerky,
luckily, the band’s other members, C. Dove kind of off.”
“I think we’re going in that direction,
Amber and Steve Gere, are in town, and
by the time we all sit down for some huge too,” adds Albertini. “Doing really simple
burgers, we’re all in a fi ne mood. None chord arrangements but with a secondof them were aware there’s a place just wave hardcore mindset behind it, and
outside of Portland called Helvetia (pro- doing it more quietly. That’s what Duster
always was to me: Where do you go after
nounced “Hel-VEE-zia”).
The band evolved out of Duster, a you’ve been as loud as you possibly can and
group that Amber and Albertini started as fast as you possibly can? Where do you
in San Jose and brought north to Se- go from that? You go to super quiet, super
attle. The two always helped each other drone-y, slow. And even though Helvetia’s
out with recordings: “Four-track stuff, not really been about that, always, it’s albouncing ideas off each other,” Amber ways had that mindset. Trying to be cutsays. “And then Jason just started writ- ting edge in our minds.”
August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 19

DESCHUTES STREET FARE: FRUIT BATS,
LEWI LONGMIRE AND THE LEFT COAST
ROASTERS, SNEAKIN’ OUT
(Deschutes Brewery and Public House, 210 NW
11th) The Deschutes Street Fare deposits a bunch of
local food carts into the Pearl, resulting in a de facto
block party to raise money for Loaves and Fishes, a
nonprofi t that brings meals to homebound seniors.
This being a Deschutes affair, there are beer pairings for all of the food, and there’s good live music,
too; this year Fruit Bats headline. Over the years
frontman Eric D. Johnson’s bedroom pop has effortlessly evolved into gently sunburned West Coast
folk-rock, making the Bats the perfect soundtrack to
a summer’s evening spent out of doors. NED LANNAMANN

WILD ONES, AND AND AND, ANIMAL EYES,
ADVENTURES WITH MIGHT,
NINJA TURTLE NINJA TIGER
(Rontoms, 600 E Burnside) Not to downplay the rest
of the band’s contributions, but Wild Ones singer
Danielle Sullivan’s voice is one of our city’s local
treasures. Half of Wild Ones earned their stripes
as members of Eskimo and Sons (if you have never
listened to them, fi gure out some way to acquire
everything they’ve ever released as soon as you’re
done reading this). While Sullivan’s pensive duets
with sad-bastard co-vocalist/songwriter Dhani Rosa
in that band were exquisite, her effervescent vocal stylings are honestly more suited to this sort of
thing. The title track off the group’s debut EP You’re
a Winner makes my entire body feel wonderful. I am
thankful for this band’s existence, and I can’t wait
to tell people I knew them when. (You can get into
this show for free by going to rethinkpopmusic.com/
showdeerrsvp and giving some info to a cigarette
company.) MORGAN TROPER

KAY KAY AND HIS WEATHERED
UNDERGROUND, HUSTLE AND DRONE,
THE WE SHARED MILK
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) The We
Shared Milk were taking a hiatus over the summer and
now they’re back! They open a night of eclecticism with
heartfelt rock tracks, like “No Shit,” which feels like a
rough-around-the-edges modern version of Van Morrison’s “And It Stoned Me,” and some songs that sound
like Alien Lanes-era Guided by Voices with shreddier
guitar licks. They’ve got something beautiful going on.
They then give the stage to Hustle and Drone, Ryan
Neighbors’ (ex-Portugal. The Man) insanely likeable
new beat-based indie-pop project. They’re followed
by Seattle-based cabaret-pop ensemble Kay Kay
and His Weathered Underground, who bring gentle
melodies to elaborate buildups and surprises. It also
doesn’t hurt that their last project featured covers of
some of my all-time favorite pop songs by Blackstreet,
Hall and Oates, Nu Shooz, Teena Marie, and more.
ROCHELLE HUNTER

HOT PANDA, REVEL SWITCH,
SWEEPING EXITS, WHOREHOUNDS
(Ted’s, 231 SW Ankeny) Canadian rock quartet Hot
Panda sometimes sound like they’re trying to be all
things to all people. The band’s third release, Go
Outside, takes their proclivities for the synth-pop,
punk, and indie rock of yore and hits the mark for
a fuzzy good listen. It’s easily their best and most
cohesive work to date. Frontman Chris Connelly
has pop smarts to go with his wry and occasionally
venomous lyrics. They’re a really good band whose
only challenge in 2012 is to cut through the white
noise of buzz bands and short-lived fl avors of the
month. Go Outside might be just the album to do it.
MARK LORE

NORAH JONES, CORY CHISEL AND THE
WANDERING SONS
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) During the
early 2000s, there was a law requiring all coffee
shops to play Come Away with Me at least four times
a day. As a 23-year-old, I somehow didn’t relate to a
peer who was singing torch songs for the golf-andmacchiato set. So when I gave up slinging coffee, I
also gave up listening to Norah Jones. Right up until
June, that is, when I saw her stunning turn in Ted—she
plays the titular alcoholic teddy bear’s ex. Maybe she
doesn’t take herself so seriously after all. Her latest,
Little Broken Hearts, had been getting rave reviews,
so I gave it a listen and found that, no, she’s still awfully serious. Except that on this, her fifth album, Jones
has made something dark and tragic and distorted
and, finally, age appropriate. Her second collaboration
with Danger Mouse (after last year’s Rome) is a noir
meditation on heartbreak, as stylish as it is sincere.
REBECCA WILSON

CRYSTAL FIGHTERS,
Wonder Ballroom, 6/2

EXPERIMENTAL NOISE FEST: DANIEL
MENCHE, JOHN WIESE, THE RITA, BLACK
AIR, BLUE SABBATH BLACK CHEER,
KAKERLAK, RUSALKA, OKHA, SCARD
(Ella Street Social Club, 714 SW 20th Pl) “Can you
please stop talking?” comes from my right, and I turn to
find a girl my age smiling seriously as she walks away
from me and my friend. We’re drunk and stubborn in
2011, but when Daniel Menche takes the stage and the
audience falls to crossed legs on the ground, we do
shut up. After the performance washes over, talking is
the one thing I can’t do. It’s no surprise: 20 years in the
business of noise music have made the aural and visual
fields of Menche’s repertoire powerfully moving. In the
Northwest, he’s definitely one of the genre’s chamberlains. Los Angeles’ John Wiese is sure to be another
highlight of the Experimental Noise Fest’s first night—
his sporadic factories of sound twist and breathe like
an anti-melodic version of Venetian Snares, asking audiences that girl’s same question through tense static.
JONATHAN MAGDALENO

SEX WOUNDS, DUTY, GUSHER,
HAUKSNESS
(Kenton Club, 2025 N Kilpatrick) If you’ve gone to
shows at houses or dives during the past few years,
you may have had the seemingly haphazard chance to
catch a set by Hauksness. Although they’ve been playing intermittently, releasing music nonchalantly, and
varying their lineup, the core of the project continues
to burn brightly, and seems to be on the cusp of becoming a more steady presence. Some stellar recordings are available on their Bandcamp, including the
Because Good Is Dumb EP released earlier this year,
which features truly killer, deceivingly polished and
instantly rapturing tracks like “Limey BP Fish Sticks,”
marked by raspy lyrical delivery that intermingles with
twisting guitars and frenetic drumming. The But Thou
Must EP from 2010 contains such under-two-minute
punk perfection as the anthemic “Primitive Arithmetic.”
A third EP is upcoming—if it’s more of the same, I can’t
wait to hear it. MARANDA BISH

SATURDAY 8/18
DENVER, BEAR AND MOOSE,
BARNA HOWARD

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg. 19.

DIGITAL LEATHER, DENIZENZ,
SICK SECRETS, GHOST POWER
(East End, 203 SE Grand) Denizenz, a gloriously noisy
post-pop-punk band that has been gracing stages around
town for the past couple years, has not established a
strong internet presence. We’re left with a few blurry videos, some old fuzzy recordings, and a trail of show dates
reaching back into the previous decade, but from these
artifacts one can get a sense of the band’s essence: hysterical, howling vocals, garage-rock style snarls of guitar,
skittery keys, and steady drumbeats. One rad track titled
“Ideas” commences with a shriek before the vocalist descends into a clever, scathing diatribe, stating, “I’ve got
a light bulb like Thomas Edison,” then demanding, “Give
me ideas/I want your ideas!” I’ve got one for them, about
getting their shit together online, but something tells me
these guys may not give a fuck. MB

tion, takes its name from Material Issue’s excellent
debut LP—began in 1998 as a means of showcasing up-and-coming Los Angeles-based power-pop
artists. Over the years it has gradually expanded to
multiple other big(gish) cities, including Portland.
And while it’s an overlooked facet of this city’s music
scene (why wouldn’t it be?), PDX definitely has its
fair share of stellar Beatles-influenced pop acts. Saturday night’s lineup looks particularly killer: there are
PDX pure pop mainstays Blue Skies for Black Hearts,
whose most recent LP Embracing the Modern Age
was one of the most significant contributions to the
genre in recent memory, the irresistibly retro Queued
Up, and Exploding Hearts holograms the Cry. Prepare
to meet a lot of weirdoes who claim the best band to
ever come out of Portland was the Hudson Brothers.
(Elliott Who?) MT

JEL, DJ ABILITIES, TOPE, CLOUDY OCTOBER,
STEWART VILLAIN, VOID PEDAL, ZAVALA,
CRUSHCON7
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) DJ Abilities and Jel are two
prominent hiphop producers (of Rhymesayers and
Anticon, respectively) who emphasize performance
and live production. These button-pushing, samplescratching, fader-fl apping geniuses come together
again—after their short-lived Deep Puddle Dynamics
stint—to tour together doing solo and collaborative
sets. Get there early enough for great local emcees
Tope and Cloudy October, and a beat set by Stewart
Villain. This guy has a beautiful style, especially the
ambient, laidback beats on his instrumental album
Leftovers. RH

KAYO DOT, THRONES, HANG THE OLD YEAR
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) Kayo Dot is a band of
multi-instrumentalists led by accomplished experimental musician Toby Driver. The ever-changing
Brooklyn-based band has evolved over the last decade to release six studio albums, and while band
members have come and gone, the progressive
aesthetic that underlies the band’s philosophy has
always been present. Self-described as “dark, cinematic, and dream-like,” their style gives the listener
ample opportunity to fall into a kaleidoscopic world
of sound that, via reinterpretation, ends up quite far
from where it began. CHRISTINA BROUSSARD

POLIÇA, SUPREME CUTS
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Poliça make
grooving downtempo tunes with singer Channy
Leaneagh’s woozy Auto-Tuned vocals as the central
focus. Like Leaneagh and band co-founder Ryan
Olson’s previous stuff with Minneapolis slowdance
“supergroup”/collective Gayngs, it’s formulaic and
at times repetitive, but executed well enough to be
mostly enjoyable. Openers Supreme Cuts get the
edge here, though, for their moody, chopped-sample beats that constantly shift tempos and textures.
Though their recent debut LP Whispers in the Dark
is getting most of the (deserved) attention, the Chicago duo’s previous Trouble 10-inch, remixes, and
forays into rap production—see their upcoming collaborative album with Barbadian rapper Haleek
Maul, Chrome Lips—show that their sound goes even
deeper than that. MIKE RAMOS

SUNDAY 8/19
KISS, MÖTLEY CRÜE

(Sleep Country Amphitheater, 17200 NE Delfel, Ridgefield, WA) There aren’t many bands in the world more
divisive than KISS. Those who love the band do so
with religious zealotry; those on the other side look
at the band with the same derision as Nickelback.
But almost 40 years in, KISS’ place in American music (and pop culture) is secure. They’re consummate
underdogs, businessmen, and survivors. And despite
what you think, they’re also a rock and roll b®and. Get
past Gene Simmons’ massive ego/codpiece. Pass
up “Beth” and “Rock and Roll All Nite” for the deep
cuts. Know that—with all the makeup and schlock and
bombs—these are just four guys from New York that
were reared on the best British bands from the ’60s.
Simmons and his longtime partner Paul Stanley are all
that remain of the original lineup, but there’s still not
a better/louder show in town. And they still champion
rock ’n’ roll like it’s 1975. It’s big, dumb fun—just like
their no-brainer choice for co-headliners, Mötley Crüe.
ML Also see My, What a Busy Week!, pg. 15.

JOVANOTTI
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) The words
“Italian pop star” bring to mind a terrifying vision of
an Il Divo-like belter, emitting sweat and schmaltzy
dreck for the pleasure of enthusiastic, possibly horny
crowds of elderly women. What a surprise it is, then,
to listen to Jovanotti’s new Italia 1988-2012 compilation album, which remixes and re-contextualizes
some of the Italian pop star’s recordings over his
near-25-year career. He started off heavily infl uenced

by the Beastie Boys, then embraced global pop and
collaborated with acts like Sérgio Mendes, TV on the
Radio, and Luciano Pavarotti. I don’t understand his
lyrics, of course, but Jovanotti’s music sounds subtle, diverse, and classy. He recently moved to New
York and is trying his hand at the American market,
and though I can’t imagine him becoming the kind
of sensation he is in Italy, fans of smart pop (who
don’t mind lyrics not sung in English) will defi nitely
get something out of Jovanotti. NL

MONDAY 8/20
THE CULT, MURDER OF CROWS

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See My, What a Busy Week!,
pg. 15.

TENEMENT, BIG EYES, CRYPTIES,
DJ J-ONE ILL
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) Seattle trio Big Eyes
play with the sort of sincerity typically lacking from
most ’77 punk-infl uenced bands these days. Their
debut LP Hard Life, released last summer, contains
12 tracks of exquisite, jagged Jam-esque powerpop
(standout cuts are the hit-worthy “Pretend to Care”
and far-too-relatable closer “Tired All the Time”), and
their latest 7-inch “Back from the Moon” sounds like
a lost Muffs classic. It’s the band stepping even further in the right direction and branching out stylistically (lead vocalist Kate Eldridge is starting to really
“push it” to great effect). This is like a badass Best
Coast. MT

503.288.3895
info@mississippistudios.com
3939 N. Mississippi

8pm Doors, 9pm Show
Unless otherwise noted

Seattle based group of intricate and well-orchestrated psych-pop full of
catchy hooks and symphonic complexity

ZZ TOP, NASHVILLE PUSSY
(Edgefi eld, 2126 SW Halsey, Troudale) ZZ Top has
always been a slave to the production value and
pop sensibility of the time. In the ’70s, it was beerdrenched, bitchin’ Southern rock ’n’ roll and livestock on stage. In the ’80s, it was over-production
and music videos with furry guitars and leggy chicks.
The ’90s, well... let’s skip that period. Thankfully,
the recent trend for resurfacing rockers is a return
to form. Top’s Texicali EP, the band’s fi rst release
since 2003, has four good, old-fashioned American
cruising cuts that could probably make your sideburns grow faster. It’s no Fandango!, but it’s stacked
with swagger and stomp-ability. Also, to display their
ever-present savviness, the EP was released digitally
only. Even though they’re at the end of the alphabet, ZZ Top knows how to, well, stay on top. ARIS
WALES Also see My, What a Busy Week! , pg. 15.

$10 ADV

Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp For Girls Presents:

Pop influenced duo of bedroom turntablists who make dream-disco that
feels like a hazy assembly of chart hits heard last thing at night

TEENGIRL
FANTASY

THREE MILE PILOT, DRAMADY

WEDNESDAY 8/22

+VIOLET ISLE

FRI AUG 17th

$8 ADV

TUESDAY 8/21
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) It’s surprising to see Three
Mile Pilot back on the touring circuit, but any activity at
all is surprising after a decade or so of immobility. I’m
pretty damn confident that old listeners love the familiar sound of their 2010 release The Inevitable Past Is
the Future Forgotten, but that observation always kinda
begs the question: Did the group’s inactivity foster an
acceptance of a single rooted sound, or did it only marinate them in the character of their 1997 full-length Another Desert, Another Ocean? Fuck it. They’re a great
rock band through and through, with a genealogy that
deserves nods from anyone who remembers the premainstream era of indie rock. JM

Melodic rock anthems driven by classically-inspired piano. Check out
their latest album The Glass Masses

GATEKEEPER

+THUNDER HORSE

SAT AUG 18th

$12 ADV

2:30 Doors
3:00 Show
Mostly Standing
Seated Balcony

SUN AUG 19th

“Eleni Mandell is perhaps L.A.‘s best kept secret. She’s impressively
quaint and her tracks are laden stripped down and soulful—yielding an
unapologetic sensibility.”
-Paste Magazine

THE LOWER 48, OH DARLING,
SEAN SPELLMAN
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Who knows when the
Lower 48 will exhaust their penchant for geography,
but let’s hope it carries them through another album at
least. Like a good map, the Portland-by-way-of-Minnesota trio brims with possibility, even at their most utilitarian. With only an EP and an album—last fall’s Where
All Maps End—in their knapsacks, they have reached a
maturity, a gravitas, that coexists surprisingly well with
their warmth. A lot of this is the product of Sarah Parson, whose singular voice comes from deep within her
throat, providing aural texture to cling to, even when
the band is at their most mellow. Parson’s voice is in
direct contrast to that of Jasmine Ash, the ethereal lady
who fronts LA-based Oh Darling. Her voice is so sweet
that, no joke, a chocolate company used one of her solo
songs in an international advertising campaign. Classic
rocker Sean Spellman of Quiet Life will open the eccentric lineup. RW

’VE NEVER ACTUALLY met a tortured genius,
but if popular entertainment is to be believed,
they’re everywhere—high-strung, tormented savants who solve complex equations before they

OUR PICKS OF THE WEEK

They’re deep conceits, the kind that have the
potential to illuminate not only the art of fiction,
but the real world that imitates it. They also offer
endless opportunities for brilliant but ephemeral,
self-referential and self-deprecating and self-aggrandizing and just plain self-ish cleverness.
Yuvi Zalkow, at least the one in the novel, is a
short, bald, impotent self-described neurotic Jew
struggling to give his novel a coherent plot. (His
attempts range from tangential memories of his
father to escapist sci-fi stories.) His wife is supportive but frustrated, her brother is supportive but
terminally ill, and Zalkow’s editor is largely unsupportive and keeps telling him to kill a character.
A Brilliant Novel in the Works leans heavily
on cleverness. The language has a unique way of
tricking you into thinking something serious is funny, and vice versa. He can describe a worrisome
S&M fetish in a hilarious deadpan voice and turn
around to make a semi-sexual experience alone
on horseback seem like a meaningful milestone.
So yes, it’s a deliriously clever book that insists
on playing games on every page.
But the games, while fun, are a little predictable, and the rules too obvious. Zalkow keeps

saying outright what’s fiction and what’s metafiction. He never uses the term, but that abominable
prefix—meta—hangs over the entire story. The
idea of a story actively being written by its narrator is not new. Most readers can wrap their head
around it with little coaching, yet Zalkow reminds
us almost on every page that he is both author
and protagonist.
Metafiction on this level only achieves
meaning through a subtle, dramatic irony. Yes,
the smugness and confidence of a character
writing his own story is immutable, but there
must be yet another gap between that character and the author (and thereby, the reader).
Unfortunately, in A Brilliant Novel the gaps between protagonist, narrator, and author seem all
too small, and it lacks that crucial dramatic irony between the fictional Zalkow and the author
Zalkow. Like the better Woody Allen comedies
(an obvious touchstone for the novel), there is a
tenderness to the love between Zalkow and his
wife that repeatedly reminds you that there’s an
actual story with real characters here, it’s just
too often buried under the elaborate structure
of the novel. THOMAS ROSS

can talk and compose violin sonatas in their spare
time. Oh, and usually they could use a haircut.
Playwright Patrick Wohlmut’s Continuum
focuses on not one, but two such boy wonders:
math whiz Craig (Matthew Dieckman) and science genius Peter (Robert McGranahan). Peter
is a professor whose once-promising career
has been derailed by his pet theory that Jupiter
isn’t really a planet; Craig is a brilliant, possibly
crazy fraudster who dupes his victims by posing as a harmless homeless guy. The story cuts
between the prison cell where Craig is being
held and flashback sequences describing the
relationship between the two men, as Craig
insinuates himself into Peter’s life, begins collaborating on his Jupiter theory, and eventually
steals his research funds.
This is half good premise, half bad premise:
A mathematician and an astronomer working
together on a problem is metaphorically interesting, full of dramatic potential, and it’s easy to
see how areas of professional overlap might be
paralleled by personal synchronicities. The posing as a crazy homeless guy part? Not so great.
Craig’s scheming is overly complicated, and

Wohlmut works too hard to highlight similarities
between the two characters. Both were raised
by single, abusive fathers; both allowed their
fathers to define their careers, albeit in slightly
different ways. In each case, the abuse backstory feels like a shortcut to character development, and it forces a too-literal parallel between
two men who already have plenty in common.
Fortunately, director Stan Foote (full disclosure:
Foote is my boyfriend’s boss at Oregon Children’s Theatre) snagged Matthew Dieckman to
play Craig; Dieckman’s performance is absolutely great, finding humor in a role that offers
precious little of it, and playing his character’s
manic episodes with relative restraint.
Continuum is interested in how a faulty premise can derail a career and how a faulty childhood
can derail a life. The show has moments of real tenderness, as Craig slowly begins to wrap his head
around the possibility of caring for another person,
and being cared for in return. But the threads that
work are jumbled together with some real clunkers, and the show’s emotional core is obscured by
needless complexity, adding complication without
adding depth. ALISON HALLETT

A Different Kind of Normal is a story about family, forgiveness, and loving someone enough to
let them be true to themselves. Aww. Powell’s
Books at Cedar Hills Crossing, 3415 SW Cedar Hills, Beaverton, 228-4651, 7 pm

Wake is the first in a new series about life in a
quiet seaside town, disrupted by three beautiful girls who cast a spell on everyone. Gemma
Fisher wakes up one day alone, on a beach, possessing a host of new powers she can’t control
or understand. Powell’s City of Books, 1005 W
Burnside, 228-4651, 7:30 pm

BUKOWKSI’S BIRTHDAY
Fleur de Lethal presents a night of revelry
for one of the literary world’s most beloved
grumpy drunks, including readings of his
writings and ravings, and a screening of
Barfly. Hollywood Theatre, 4122 NE Sandy,
281-4215, 7 pm, $7

LIVE WIRE! A WAVE OF LIGHT
The second annual benefit show to keep Live
Wire! sparking on public radio, hosted by Courtenay Hameister, with performances from the
Blue Cranes, LoveBomb Go-Go, the Doubleclicks, comedy from the team behind Spicy
News, and sketch comedy from Faces for Radio
Theater. Food by Lardo and Cupcake Jones. Rejuvenation, 1100 SE Grand, 238-1900, Thurs
Aug 16, 6 pm, $25

★TREK IN THE PARK
Atomic Arts presents the fourth installment of
their annual celebration of Star Trek, adapting the Original Series episode “Journey to
Babel,” concerning Spock’s reunion with his
parents amid the turmoil that arises from a political assassination on the Enterprise. Cathedral Park, N Edison & Pittsburg, Sat-Sun 5
pm, through Aug 26

MONDAY 8/20

CABARET

The Black Rhinos of Namibia tells the story
of an animal that lives off poisonous plants,
goes for days without water, and was hunted
almost to extinction before cutting-edge conservation stepped in to stop the slaughter.
Powell’s City of Books, 1005 W Burnside,
228-4651, 7:30 pm

GEEKLESQUE: RE-RUNS

RICK BASS

Critical Hit Burlesque gives some past performances another turn of the cheek in this
showcase of their most popular routines. Star
Theater, 13 NW 6th, 248-4700, Fri Aug 17,
9 pm, $10

An exhibition of artworks from Susie Ghahremani, creator of the Boygirlparty line of artwork
and products, including drawings, paintings,
and mixed media. Land, 3925 N Mississippi,
451-0689, through Sept 2

CUM IN YOUR EYE
A photographic essay by artist Scott LaForce,
completing a story that began as an examination
of sexual dysfunction in suburban 21st century
America. Cock Gallery, 625 NW Everett #106,
through Sept 1

★DESIGN WITH THE OTHER 90%: CITIES
The second installment of MOCC’s collaboration with Mercy Corps, focusing on craft
and design solutions to rapid urban growth in
informal settlements, including projects and
products at every scale, focusing on designs
informed by end users. Museum of Contemporary Craft, 724 NW Davis, 223-2654,
Aug 17-Jan 5

And When She Was Good is the story of
Heloise, a suburban madam and convicted
murderer who gets a second chance at a new
life. Powell’s Books at Cedar Hills Crossing,
3415 SW Cedar Hills, Beaverton, 228-4651,
7 pm

Just down the hill from adidas and overlook
neighborhood on swan island in north pdx

32 Portland Mercury August 16, 2012

LAST SUPPER

Building a Better Banh Mi
Sok Sab Bai’s Instant Icon by Chris Onstad

Vegan &
Gluten Free
Available

EAT IT!

Happy Hour
3pm-6pm
Grendel’s Coffee
f House
Serving organic
coffee

we deliver
503-335-0300

NATE MILLER

WE GET THREE KINDS of press re- scallions—blew the needle off the dial in
leases here in the food and drink offices of terms of deep, dark, tangy flavor. The many
the Mercury. First are the revelatory an- $3 banh mi I tried elsewhere that day tastnouncements from Salty’s on the Columbia ed of perfunctory cardboard after the nom
that Mother’s Day is, in fact, a great time pang-sighk. I’m not the first to note its qualto treat mom to a complimentary mimosa. ity: It was recently named one of the top 10
Second are the Food Network ones about ethnic sandwiches in Portland by prominent
how diner tick Guy Fieri is now endorsing food magazine Mix. (I like to imagine that
Proctor Silex or Torrid for Him, or some- the other nine were also this sandwich.)
Char-grilled pork, chicken thigh, and
thing. Last are the public service alerts that
while I am sitting there reading my child galangal-flavored Cambodian beef and rice
sausage (khwa ko) dishes are the
is at school eating great scoops
Sok Sab Bai
mainstays of Sok Sab Bai’s menu,
of “pink slime” from an oversized
1114 SE Clay
with a regularly updated roster
wooden spoon. So as you can
730-3333
imagine, a press release of actual twitter.com/soksabbai of noodle and meatball soups,
grilled tofu, halibut, shrimp,
local intrigue gets more than a
little attention when it lands in the inbox. beef ribs, and more (their Facebook page,
as of press time, shows 64 variations on
(Hear that, cart owners?)
Sok Sab Bai, which bills itself as Port- their electronic daily menu board, never
land’s only Cambodian food cart, sent us identical). Sighk-chrook, or the pork chop
one such release last week. “Introducing plate ($8), is two marinated thin-cut pork
authentic and contemporary home-style chops grilled perfectly on the bone, right
Cambodian comfort food,” it read, before down to the photogenic black hash marks
running down a tragic history (the chef, and scored, charred fat rind. Served with
Nyno Thol, escaped the killing fields for white rice, tamarind vinaigrette-dressed
the Philippines at age two) and an inspir- organic greens, an assortment of pickles,
ing tale of human perseverance (he later and a cup of the aforementioned fish sauce,
attended Le Cordon Bleu College of Cu- it’s a beautiful and sizable meal for one.
linary Arts and now has two restaurants, The sighk-moan ang, or chicken plate ($7,
including Bara Sushi House). The included pounded and sliced marinated thigh), and
photographs depicted colorful Indochine chef ’s plate ($10, chicken thigh and pork)
soup and rice dishes, which look unsurpris- are presented the same way. Dressed at
ingly akin to those of Cambodia’s French- the table with the house condiments of
influenced peers, Vietnam and Thailand, spicy soy (with garlic, jalapeño, and onion)
with vibrant colors and bountiful stacks of and pickled jalapeño in vinegar, the food is
julienned aromatics. It gives a food enthusi- anything but monotonous.
The chicken noodle soup ($7) is a beauast a special kind of “cred” to tirelessly hunt
for obscure and far-flung Asian specialties, tifully plated large serving for one, with
such as the snail soups and tripe porridges finely shredded white meat atop a generous
which line 82nd, so an early visit to this curi- portion of tender, fettuccine-sized egg nooosity was a must. The very next day I nosed dles, fragrant with Chinese broccoli, green
the import past their spacious lot, and saw onion, and cilantro. The side seasonings of
promising, billowing clouds of smoke flow- fried garlic, hot chile oil, and black pepper
ing from the roof fans like steam from the enliven this mild soup and its light, slightly
slick chicken broth. A stir-fry of tofu ($7)
ears of a vengeful elephant.
As I was beginning a banh mi crawl that with fresh ginger and vegetables is a menu
day, I had the nom pang-sighk, or Cam- standard for vegetarians.
I predict it will not be long before this
bodian sandwich ($5), which is an almost
identical analog to that popular Vietnamese cart, located behind the Hawthorne Burgeritem. The crunchy-yet-pillowy fresh white ville and a stone’s throw from the pod at SE
roll held a generous but not messy serving 12th, joins the ranks of the Nongs, Whiffies,
of moist, rich braised pork, and featured and Pyros of Portland lore. Go now, before
distinctive spears of fresh pickle and jala- that inevitable Portland phenomenon rears
peño along with cilantro, carrot, and onion up: the hour-long line.
(I ordered mine hot when given the option,
which meant more spears of jalapeño). A Mon-Wed 11 am–2:30 pm, Thurs-Fri 11
healthy dose of their fish sauce—which is am-7 pm or until sold out. Outdoor and
anything but fishy for its balancing lime, covered private seating. Check Twitter or
sugar, tomato, Thai chiles, cilantro, and Facebook for daily menu updates.

3240 n williams
8th & East Burnside

503-595-9550

www.pizza-agogo.com

FIND RESTAURANTS, BARS, AND READER REVIEWS AT PORTLANDMERCURY.COM

Comment on this story at portlandmercury.com

August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 33

34 Portland Mercury August 16, 2012

FILM

Chopra for Kids

Lardass, Acne, and Hook Nose. It’s meant
to be funny, but it just comes off as mean
and unpleasant. ParaNorman’s level of
craftsmanship is incredible—and a thing
to behold, at least for a little while—but
between a dull story, unpleasant characters, and jokes that don’t work, you’re
better off just watching a behind-thescenes featurette.

Even LAIKA Can’t Save ParaNorman by Vince Mancini

STOP ME if you’ve heard this one before: of the best uses of 3D. The stop-motion fair and had a caricaturist play up his worst
There’s this little kid, and he can see dead practical effects (kind of like Fantastic Mr. features as a cruel prank. They’re like a
Fox) are so texturally varied— tragic take on the seven dwarves—Lumpy,
people. Now, I know what
ParaNorman
compared to the condom sculp- Gap Tooth, Chicken Neck, Shovel Face,
you’re thinking: “This kid,
dirs. Chris Butler, Sam Fell
tures you get
he’s probably well adjusted
Opens Fri Aug 17
with CG—that
and super popular with his
Various Theaters
the depth gives
peers, am I right? A hit with
you a fuller tactile appreciaall the ladies?”
No! Believe it or not, he’s kind of an tion for the homemade-ness
outcast! A social pariah, even! Okay, now I of it all. “Whoa, how’d they do
don’t want to spoil anything, but the twist? that? How’d they do THAT?!”
This social handicap of his might turn out you’ll say. But once that wears
to save the day. Sounds crazy, right? I off, there isn’t much else. A
couple characters, like Neil
know, but it’s true!
That, unfortunately, is the recycling- (voiced by Tucker Albrizzi),
bin plot the talented animators at LAIKA the chubby best friend of
have saddled themselves with on Para- main character Norman
Norman. It doesn’t get any better in the (Kodi Smit-McPhee), and the
telling, and probably gets worse, with a burnout Alvin (Christopher
story involving a town cursed by a little Mintz-Plasse), are endeargirl who was burned as a witch (yeesh, ing and nicely rendered, but
dark much?) and a climax so drawn out the main difference between
and touchy-feely-talky that it plays like this and LAIKA’s Coraline
Chopra for kids. It’s a shame, because the is that ParaNorman’s charanimation is so finely crafted and obvious- acter design is ugly in a way
ly painstaking that not loving it makes you that almost feels disdainful.
The characters all look like if
feel like a real poopface.
Certainly this kind of animation is one you took an ugly friend to the PARANORMAN Oh, c’mon. This week’s Breaking Bad wasn’t THAT surprising.

History Is Written by the Losers

FILM

Dark Horse: Todd Solondz’s Latest Misfit by David Schmader

dreamscapes, tellingly, look pretty much
like real life). The whole thing builds to a
quietly amazing fi nal shot that recasts the
whole of what we’ve spent the last 80 minutes watching. We’re left with the possibility that much of what we call life is merely
illusion borne of randomly overlapping solipsisms. It’s a good, smart trip.

But before long, Dark Horse spins out
THROUGHOUT HIS SLOW-BOIL of a with toys. But unlike The 40-Year-Old Vircareer, fi lmmaker Todd Solondz has made gin’s bike-riding man-child, Abe drives a of even Abe’s narcissistic control, opening
champions, or at least protagonists, out neon-yellow Hummer, says things like “I up to bold splashes of fantasy (Solondz’s
know I’m a great kisser,” and,
of society’s outcasts. But unDark Horse
when a beautiful and mystelike Judd Apatow’s endearing
dir. Todd Solondz
rious young woman (Selma
dorks, Solondz’s losers are
Opens Fri Aug 17
Blair) crosses his path, has no
often the opposite of lovable.
Living Room Theaters
qualms about courting her, im(See Happiness’s predatory
pedophile.) Even Welcome to the Doll- mediately and aggressively.
The pathetic Abe’s towering self-posshouse’s Dawn Weiner, Solondz’s most pathetic and beloved character, was forced to ession drives Dark Horse’s good and
squirmy fi rst half, wherein our repellant
reveal a repugnant dark side.
In his new Dark Horse, Solondz tracks hero rages at the world like an overtired
what might be his most beguiling freak 8-year-old, with every other out-breath
yet. Abe (Jordan Gelber) is a balding, some variation of “It’s not fair!” Gelber’s
overweight thirtysomething man who performance as Abe is a marvel, a fulllives with his parents in his childhood blooded, seemingly spontaneous embodihome, in a bedroom packed floor to ceiling ment of a singularly clueless jerk.
DARK HORSE Selma Blair remembers when love scenes involved Ryan Phillippe.

The Man Behind the Shades

FILM

Searching for Sugar Man’s Rodriguez by Ned Lannamann
THE “SUGAR MAN” in Searching has amassed a huge following over the defor Sugar Man is the Detroit singer/ cades—and where nobody knows a thing
about the mysterious man besongwriter who went under
Searching for
hind the records. Rumors cirthe name Rodriguez. He reSugar Man
culate that Rodriguez, disilluleased two obscure albums
dir. Malik Bendjelloul
sioned by the lack of response
of introspective, Dylanesque
Opens Fri Aug 17
to his music, committed suicide
agitprop-lite in 1970 and 1971,
Fox Tower 10
by setting himself on fi re durthen promptly vanished off the
face of the earth. Documentary fi lmmaker ing a show in the early ’70s. His songs
Malik Bendjelloul picks up the thread in become a voice of dissent during South
South Africa, where Rodriguez’s music Africa’s ugly apartheid years; Rodriguez

himself becomes a cult figure and a folk
hero, selling hundreds of thousands of albums in the process.
If this is the fi rst you’ve heard of Rodriguez, you might choose to stop reading
here, because the twist that Searching for
Sugar Man reveals—while not a surprise
to anyone who’s picked up the recent reissues of his albums on the Seattle-based
Light in the Attic label—is handled brilliantly in the fi lm. Even if you do know

Comment on these stories at portlandmercury.com

what happened next, Sugar Man is still
one of the most intriguing and satisfying
music documentaries in a good while.
SO, SPOILERS: Turns out Rodriguez
is alive and well, living close to poverty as a
contractor in Detroit, completely unaware
of his massive audience halfway around the
globe. (The interview with Clarence Avant,
the head of Rodriguez’s label and supposedly the administrator of his royalties, is
fascinating and damning.) Expect Searching for Sugar Man to do for Rodriguez
what Anvil: The Story of Anvil did for that
Canadian metal band—except that more of
the fans Rodriguez acquires through this
excellent film are bound to stick.
August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 35

THE EXPENDABLES 2
★ BACK TO THE FUTURE
“No McFly ever amounted to anything in the history of
Hill Valley!” Burnside Brewing Co.

BARFLY
Readings by local writers and rare footage of Charles
Bukowski precede a screening of Barfly, the 1987 flick
written by Bukowski and starring Mickey Rourke as
Bukowski’s thinly-veiled alter ego, Henry Chinaski. For
more info, see Books, pg. 31. Hollywood Theatre.

★ BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD
I’ll let you in on a secret: Writing negative reviews is pretty
easy. Every doofy plot twist and bungled CG jumpkick
pulls you out of the moviegoing experience, allowing
you plenty of time to compose elaborately mean puns
for your headline. It’s harder to review a movie when it
succeeds—and I mean really succeeds, in that it draws
you in completely. The surreal, fantastic Beasts of the
Southern Wild is that kind of movie: You may leave the
theater conflicted and even confused, but you won’t be
thinking about anything else while you’re watching it.
BEN COLEMAN Cinema 21.

THE BOURNE LEGACY

Stupidity of the term aside, it’s easiest to describe The
Bourne Legacy as a “sidequel” to the Bourne flicks that
starred Matt Damon: Legacy occurs during roughly the
same timeframe, but thanks to Bourne’s shenanigans, the
government’s decided to wipe out all of its experimental
soldiers, including Aaron Cross (Jeremy Renner). Plus,
Cross is running out of the meds that keep him all smart
and tough—meaning that unless he and Dr. Marta Shearing
(Rachel Weisz) can get him more pills, he’ll go all Flowers for
Algernon. Crammed full of technobabble and superfluous
plot (“Blackbriar!” “Treadstone!” “BETA TEST GROUP C,
ALPHA CODE TANGO!”), Legacy makes as much sense
as all the other Bournes, which is to say none. But Renner’s
a solid action hero—angry and driven—while director Tony
Gilroy, who wrote the Damon Bournes before directing
the excellent Michael Clayton, continues the series’ blurry,
spastic action. ERIK HENRIKSEN Various Theaters.

★ THE CAMPAIGN
Will Ferrell stars as Cam Brady, a four-term Congressman
from North Carolina who is running unopposed for reelection—even when he accidentally leaves a wholesome
family a dirty voicemail about rimjobs, he’s got no fear of
losing. Enter Marty Huggins (Zach Galifianakis), the local
director of tourism who gets backed by an evil corporation
in order to take Brady’s seat. Though it pains me, I will
politely refrain from telling you much more about where
the story goes, because the jaw-droppingly horrible twists
and turns are what make The Campaign so fun. But I will
say this—you know that part in the trailer where Will Ferrell
punches a baby? He punches something way worse
than that later in the movie. Think of something worse to
punch than a baby! ELINOR JONES Various Theaters.
★ DARK HORSE
See review this issue. Living Room Theaters.

★ LAURA
An inspiration for Twin Peaks, Otto Preminger’s 1944
noir Laura is a classic whodunit, but one where what
was done becomes less and less clear. Dana Andrews
plays a detective who falls in love with the socialite (Gene
Tierney) whose murder he’s supposed to be solving. The
film is famous for David Raksin’s haunting score, but it’s
Tierney’s nervous, vulnerable performance that really sells
it. JAMIE S. RICH Fifth Avenue Cinema.

THE MISFITS

See Books, pg. 31. Hollywood Theatre.

★ MOONRISE KINGDOM
Wes Anderson, god bless him, just keeps making Wes
Anderson movies. Moonrise Kingdom is mannered,
precious, nostalgic, and twee—and about as good a
movie about childhood as an adult is capable of making.
ALISON HALLETT Various Theaters.

THE ODD LIFE OF TIMOTHY GREEN
A Disney family flick about a little kid with leaves on his
legs who appears magically out of some dirt. Eat it up,
hippies! Various Theaters.

PARANORMAN

See review this issue. Various Theaters.

PATANG
An Indian drama set against the backdrop of India’s
largest kite festival. Clinton Street Theater.

★ THE PRIZE
Paula Markovitch’s haunting film documents the life of
seven-year-old Cici (Paula Galinelli Hertzog) and her
mother Lucía (Laura Agorreca) as they hide from a police
state in Argentina. Hertzog’s performance is irresistible,
and though the film moves at an awkward pace, it makes
up for it in heart-wrenching detail. Screens as part of the
Northwest Film Center’s Global Lens series, along with
Mourning and Pegasus. More info: nwfilmorg. ZIBBY
PILLOTE Northwest Film Center’s Whitsell Auditorium.

4122 NE SaNdy BoulEvard

enter taining Por tl and since 1926

EVENT HOTLINE: (503) 493-1128

ThE hollyWood ThEaTrE NoW SErvES BEEr & WiNE. all agES STill adMiTTEd!

“Eccentric musicians, drunks, and drag queens” mount
a rebellion when a small town hangout threatens to go
out of business. Director in attendance. Clinton Street
Theater.

THE EXPENDABLES 2

YELLOW SUBMARINE

Wait, so you’re telling me Lions Gate Entertainment
refused to screen this film for critics? My, what a shocking surprise. Various Theaters.

Portland’s Historic non-Profit tHeatre

TIN HOUSE PrESENTS ARTHUR MILLER’S

THE MISFITS
WiTh adaM BravE BooK SigNiNg! SUNDAY AUGUST 19 · 2:00pm

Nope, officer. No drugs here. Bagdad Theater.

FILMUSIK

Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, with a live score by Boston band
Bent Knee. Hollywood Theatre.

HOPE SPRINGS
A creaky old couple (Meryl Streep, Tommy Lee Jones)
decide to undergo a week of counseling with a renowned
therapist (Steve Carrell). Your mom is going to love this
thing. Various Theaters.

It Began with Tegan by Dan Savage
I’ve been confused about my sexuality for two
years. I am a 22-year-old female. I liked guys
when I was in school, but then, in perhaps the
most stereotypical of fashions, I developed a
HUGE crush on Tegan and Sara when I was
nearly 20. I like the idea of being with women,
but I have never had a major crush on anyone since. So I’m really confused over what
my sexual orientation actually is. I know
many hetero-identifying people experience
same-sex crushes, but can someone’s whole
sexual orientation just change overnight? My
confusion is compounded by the fact that I’ve
never even held someone’s hand, been kissed,
or done anything else. I really want to experience such things, have an awesome relationship, and generally just stop feeling like a
complete loser. Any help appreciated!
Awfully Nervous Over Newness
“When I was young, I dated boys,” said Tegan
Quin, one half of the popular indie duo that
prompted you to question your sexuality. “I
never thought about love or being
‘in love.’ And I never thought about
sexuality. I was lucky to have a
group of friends much more interested in each other than dating. And
so I was fairly untroubled about my
status. Until I kissed a girl. Then I
knew who I really was. I was gay.”
Oh, hey, I hope you don’t mind
that I shared your letter with
Tegan and Sara, ANON. I figured
you might appreciate getting advice directly from your life-altering crush.
“I’d gone most of my teens crushing on
guys like Jared Leto, thinking that must
make me straight,” says Tegan. “Even though
secretly I was dreaming of make outs with
Claire Danes. I thought my crush on Jared
Leto vetoed my secret girl crush on Claire
Danes. Maybe that was society weighing
down on me. Perhaps it was peer pressure
keeping me inside the lines of heterosexuality. Or, likely, I just liked them both.”
Based on your letter, ANON, Tegan suspects that you might like both.
“Sexuality is not hard lines,” says Tegan.
“It’s not black and white. Not for all of us,
anyway. Some people know their whole lives
who they are. Some people don’t. My advice:
Go and kiss a girl, go and hold a boy’s hand.
Don’t worry about who you are until you fi nd
out what you like. Maybe you’ll like both—and
yay if that’s the way it turns out, because that
means you have twice as many people to fall in
love with.”
And while Tegan doesn’t think a person’s
sexuality can change overnight, she believes—
she knows from personal experience—that
a person’s awareness of their sexuality can
change overnight. “You can have an awakening,” says Tegan. “Like I did when I fi rst
kissed a girl. A whole new world can absolutely
be waiting for you if you end up feeling up to
exploring it. Good luck!”
Tegan and Sara’s newest album is Get Along,
and they’re about to embark on a tour of North
America. For info, tour dates, music, merch, and
more, go to teganandsara.com.
I’m a twentysomething professional snowboarder. I have a problem that I don’t really
have anybody to talk to about. When I jerk it,
I have to put a finger in my asshole to finish.
Plain and simple, that’s the only way I can
come. I’ve tried to learn to come without the
finger, but I can never reach climax. I can’t
even come in a girl’s pussy without sneaking
a finger in my back door. I go to great lengths
to hide it—push her head in a pillow, etc.—
because I don’t want them to think I’m gay. (I
have no problem with other people being gay,
just FYI. It’s just that you do not want snowboard groupies thinking you’re gay. Girls
talk, and then you never get laid again and all
of your bros find out you’re sticking things up

your butt.) This letter is actually time sensitive. I’m pretty distraught that last night one
of my regular chicks saw me do it! Today she
won’t return my texts. I want to convince her
I was scratching an itch or something. I’m
worried it might already be out there that I’m
“gay.” How do I learn to come without prostate stimulation?
Butt-Using Manly Man Entirely Distressed
I get a dozen letters a week from girls whose
boyfriends “can’t come.” These girls tell me
that their boyfriends get hard and stay hard
and seem to enjoy fucking them—and fucking
’em and fucking ’em—but no matter how long
their boyfriends fuck ’em, their boyfriends
never climax. Invariably, these girls ask me if
their boyfriends are gay.
Because otherwise they would come during
straight sex, right?
Your letter made me wonder how many of
these girls are dating guys like you, BUMMED.
That is, guys who need a poke in the
prostate in order to come but either
haven’t figured that out yet or know
it but don’t wanna risk it in front of
their girlfriends because their girlfriends might think they were gay if
they did that. But their girlfriends
think they’re gay anyway—because
they’re not poking and not coming.
So it looks like you’re damned if
you do, BUMMED, and damned if
you don’t. Stick a fi nger in your butt
JOE NEWTON
and come, and your girlfriend—
excuse me, your groupiefriend—might think
you’re “gay.” Don’t stick a fi nger in your butt
and don’t come, and your groupiefriend might
think you’re “gay.”
A few practical suggestions: Get a butt plug.
It’s a butt toy that your sphincter muscles hold
in place—picture a small lava lamp that fits in
your ass—and once you get it in, BUMMED,
it won’t slip out. Provided your groupiefriends
aren’t touching your asshole or looking directly
at it, they won’t even know it’s there. And a butt
plug might help you break the strong mental
association you’ve made between fi nger-in-hole
and climaxing. A few dozen look-ma-no-fi ngerin-hole orgasms, courtesy of a butt plug, might
help you transition to look-ma-nothing-in-myhole orgasms.
Get a girlfriend. I’m not a noted proponent of monogamous coupling—go ahead and
Google me—so please don’t dismiss this as
standard-issue advice-professional moralizing.
But you might benefit from opening up to one
person, someone you can trust with your secret—that will require an investment of time
and emotional energy, however. But the payoff
could be huge. Imagine having sex with someone you didn’t have to hide from, BUMMED,
someone who you didn’t have to worry about
judging you because she understood.
Get over yourself. Your sexuality isn’t the
problem; your need for prostate stimulation
isn’t the problem. The problem is your shame
and your desire to hide this aspect of your sexuality from your groupies and your bros. You
may not be gay, BUMMED, but you do need to
come out.

Visit us at www.taboovideo.com for m

e specials and events
or

All $9.95 DVDs
are $7.95.
Have you visited our private
viewing booths lately?
New movies and friendly staff.
Visit our new website at
WWW.taboovideo.com
for the latest in news,
novelties and
naughty events.
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Open 24/7
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503-227-3443

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Open 24/7
4811 NE 94th Ave
360-254-1126

DEAR READERS: David Rakoff died last
week. He was a writer, a contributor to This
American Life, and an all-around spectacular
human being. His books—Half Empty, Don’t
Get Too Comfortable, and Fraud—are terrific.
If you haven’t read David’s books, please read
them now. My heart goes out to David’s family and to his countless friends. To get an idea
of how many lives David touched, spend some
time at rorevans.tumblr.com.
Find the Savage Lovecast
at thestranger.com/savage.
mail@savagelove.net
@fakedansavage on Twitter

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August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 39

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by Wm.™ Steven Humphrey
I’m feeling a bit insecure right now. As
regular readers of I Love Television™
know, I’ve made a career out of sexual
and occasionally violent shenanigans. I’m
not bragging, but if you can’t remember
the last time you instigated a drug- and
alcohol-fueled orgy involving a stolen police van, 27 drag queens, a case of Hormel Chili, and the graduating class of a
Catholic girls school—then I guess I am
bragging. That being said… I’VE BEEN
ONE-UPPED!
Here I was, smugly thinking to myself that I’m the most grotesque, morally contaminated deviant to ever sell
kittens into slavery—and along comes a
comedy series that’s so deranged, so violent, and so steeped in debauchery that
even its own network is ashamed of it!
Say hello to Bullet in the Face (debuting
this Thursday, Aug 16, on IFC at 7 pm),
which was originally intended to run
over six consecutive weeks. HOWEVER.
According to reports, once the network
brass watched the thing—jam-crammed
with face shootings, leg breakings, head
decapitatings, and occasional blow-jobbing? Well, let’s just say there was a lot
of throat-clearing, collar-pulling, uncomfortable silencing, and maybe, after they
got home, a little blow-jobbing.
So instead of loudly tooting their
horn that they have the craziest, funniest, most insanely psycho-violent sitcom
ever? IFC has chosen to only half-promote it, and run the entire series in two
nights, featuring back-to-back episodes.
A chicken poop move? Maybe—but a
real chicken poop move would’ve been to
shelve this project entirely, or quietly release it down the road on DVD. So kudos
to you, IFC—because Bullet in the Face
is going to make people squirt bullets of
joy into their underpants!
The plot: Psychopath career criminal
Gunter Vogler (Max Williams) is a batcrap crazy Kraut, as well as a misogynistic, brutally cruel assassin. (So far so
good, right?) When his face gets blasted
off by his lover’s bullet, the police pay for
his plastic surgery and new looks—and

JEREMY EATON

in exchange? Gunter becomes an undercover cop. (This plan needs further consideration if you ask me… but whatever!
Let’s get to the bloodshed!)
The still-insane—if not more so—
Gunter is sent to infi ltrate two warring
gangs headed by a pair of crackpot mob
bosses (comedian Eddie Izzard and fi lm
fave Eric Roberts), and what transpires
is more than a bloodbath… it’s an Exxon
Valdez-sized bloodspill, featuring hot
bikini-clad chicks with machine guns,
car chases, exploding buildings, needless
treachery, skull smashing, girl fights,
random basketball team murdering, dentist abuse, and yep… at least a few dozen
bullets to the face.
And through it all? HILARITY ENSUES. Bullet in the Face plays like a
cross between Reservoir Dogs and Arrested Development—little wonder since
its creator/producer is the brilliant Alan
Spencer, best known for the unforgettable ’80s cop sitcom Sledge Hammer!
So while my own grotesque exploits
may not reach the sidesplitting, deliriously violent heights of Bullet in the Face,
I’ll try to remember that no one “owns”
lascivious malevolence and that it’s not a
competition! (That being said, I’m throwing an orgy this weekend featuring all the
people mentioned above PLUS an extra
FIVE cases of Hormel Chili! You in?)

CONTEMPORARY VISUAL ART
AND PERFORMANCE FROM
AROUND THE WORLD

SEPTEMBER 6-16, 2012
ALL OVER PORTLAND
Visit pica.org to discover this year’s
artists and buy your tickets.

This Week on Television
THURSDAY, AUGUST 16

9:00 CW THE NEXT
Debut! Faded stars like Gloria Estefan help contestants in yet another singing competition show STOP
IT, STOP IT, STOP IT!!!
10:30 FX LOUIE
Part of being a dad means dealing with rashes on
your kids’ juicy bits. Deal with it.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 17

7:00 IFC BULLET IN THE FACE
The second night and final three episodes of the
bloodiest, most violentist, and funniest sitcom ever!

SATURDAY, AUGUST 18

7:00 BBCA THE NERDIST
The nerds devote an entire episode to time travel, in
which I travel to the future and proclaim it “awesome.”
11:00 COM AMY SCHUMER: MOSTLY SEX
STUFF
One of the most hilarious female comics currently
working, in her own standup special.

9:00 TLC TODDLERS & TIARAS
Kids perform in the “Little Mr. and Miss Nevada
Pageant,” otherwise known as “Future Gamblers
Anonymous.”
10:00 BRAVO TOP CHEF MASTERS
The contestants are forced to cook a meal for the
Indigo Girls… AND listen to their music? That’s just
cruel.

Bang! Bang! Pew! Pew! Pew! Twitter. @WmSteveHumphrey

Comment on this story at portlandmercury.com

August 16, 2012 Portland Mercury 41

august 4-5, 11-12, 18-19,and 25-26 at 5:00pm
Cathedral Park--Portland, OR

under the st. johns bridge at n pittsburg in n portland
all ages--free
sponsored by:

www.trekinthepark.com
L AT I T U D E S P D X . C O M

2012

2012

GREAT
GREAT AMERICAN
AMERICAN

42 Portland Mercury August 16, 2012

FESTIVAL
FESTIVAL

MAAKIES // TONY MILLIONAIRE

Tony Millionaire’s work is published by Dark Horse Comics and online at maakies.com

Ryan North has daily comics available at qwantz.com

DINOSAUR COMICS // RYAN NORTH
ILLUSTRATION BY
KALAH ALLEN

WEDDING HELLS
Fuck you. I had to drive for 45 minutes to the middle of
fucking nowhere to bartend your ugly wedding. I had
to endure the onslaught of ugly, tanned women in Mariposa dresses and douche-y men in aviators 50 minutes
earlier than planned; I opened 20 bottles of wine in five
minutes because for some reason you thought changing
the itinerary of your “special day” would be totally okay
with the staff working. I had to listen to your bridesmaids
and groomsmen tell me, “I’M IN THE WEDDING PARTY,
I DON’T NEED TO SHOW I.D.”−to which I had to tell
them, over and fucking over again, “Yes, you do, sorry,”
like I was a CD on fucking repeat. I bartended shitty beer
from a keg for four hours nonstop with nothing but terrible
hiphop remixes blared from some cunt with a flat-billed
baseball cap on the decks. I don’t care if the groom toured
with Slipknot with his second-rate band; I don’t care if the
bride looked like Sammi “Sweetheart” from Jersey Shore;
fuck you, because my other bartender and I only made
$14 each that night. I hope your divorce is lengthy and
expensive because your wedding was quite possibly the
worst night of my life. Fuck you.—Anonymous
Submit your unsigned confessions and accusations of 300
words or less, changing the names of the innocent and guilty,
to “I, Anonymous,” at anonymous@portlandmercury.com,
or on the new I, Anonymous blog at portlandmercury.com.
UNDERWORLD // KAZ

IDIOT BOX // MATT BORS

Kaz's work is published by Fantagraphics; view his work at kazunderworld.com

Submit your photos & art online at flickr.com/groups/portlandmercury

Matt Bors is a Portland-based political cartoonist; view his work at mattbors.com